Asleep
by Poesia-Raro
Summary: AU. She's tired and she wants to go to bed. Sing her to sleep, cause she doesn't want to wake up on her own anymore. Based on the song 'Asleep' by the Smiths.


**::/Asleep/::**

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A/N: OK. So my attempt at comedy fell flat on its face and broke its nasal cartilage. Therefore I am now making this my official last story. (The only reason is because I have always stood for reality, and so I figured I'd show everyone a reality they wouldn't mind seeing before I went.)

Sorry for everything.

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Tired.

That was all she felt. Just tired. Weary. Exhausted. Drained.

Her eyelids flickered as she made her way across the threshold, the shuffle of her footsteps echoing in the empty house. The wall felt cold and rough beneath her fingertips as they brushed across the surface. She couldn't find the light switch, but that was OK. She didn't need it.

Dark, so dark. Dark as the shadows that hung perpetually over her soul.

_Sing me to sleep._

As she proceeded further into the house, she became aware of a dull, throbbing pain at the back of her head. It felt as though a rock band (Nirvana, perhaps) was rehearsing inside her skull. Simultaneously it occurred to her that she wasn't too steady on her feet either. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that she hadn't really slept in four days. A slight frown creased her forehead as she tried to recall whether or not she had any more work to do. Those words she'd heard that morning flashed once more in her head.

'But I'd given that to her to finish. She didn't do it.'

The pain intensified suddenly, as though giving her a sharp reminder of its existence. She winced, clutching her head. Her hair tumbled messily around her shoulders as she did so. Reaching out blindly, she hauled herself onto the sofa, her worn-out body smarting with a dull ache upon the impact. She let out a shallow breath as her eyelids briefly fluttered shut.

_Sing me to sleep._

No sooner had she done so than they started again. The voices in her head. Saying the same things, over and over again until she was sure they would be burned permanently into her brain.

'What's wrong with your face?'

'Did you finish our report?'

'Why can't you talk normally?'

'Damn, you look about eight months pregnant.'

Her eyes opened. That one was her personal favourite. Glancing down, she saw, as she had a million times before, that it was indeed true. The sleepless nights and subsequent out-of-balance diet had made her blow up like an inflatable raft. But of course, the cause didn't occur to anyone- all they saw and commented on was the effect.

A hand ran absently over the area in question, and she wondered, let herself really wonder, what it would be like if it was actually true. If she actually had a little life growing within her. Someone who'd make sure she was never alone even when she was hopelessly so. Someone she could love with everything she had, and who would actually return at least some measure of that love.

The old, mad rush of sudden, desperate longing shot through her once more, as it had countless times before. The feeling that tugged painfully at her heart whenever she set eyes on a child. The reason her heart would break, seemingly irreparably, every time she saw a child get anything less than he or she deserved.

_I'm tired and I_

_I want to go to bed._

Sitting up with some difficulty, she walked unsteadily towards the kitchen. Predictably, there wasn't any strawberry ice cream in the fridge, but her hand closed around the blessed bottle of Coke, its coldness making her skin tingle. She gulped down a few mouthfuls, the chill spreading through her. Mentally, she took a minute to appreciate the magical beverage. It had seen her through so many long days and sleepless nights of work, through good times and bad.

The bottle was still clutched in her hand as she made her way to her room, a little more steady now thanks to the caffeine. Pushing open the door to her room with her free hand, she walked in, but her steps faltered as her gaze fell on her bedside table.

Her friends.

Her faithful friends.

As if in a daze, she reached out, closing her eyes to relish the feel of them under her fingers. Some smooth and new, some rough and worn with age. But all of them had stood by her throughout her life, through all the ups and downs. They had taught her most of what she knew, they had made her who she was, they had given her a hundred different lives whenever she wanted to escape her own. Her most precious possessions. Her books.

She gathered up one particular set... the seven of them which were her most treasured of all. They were her reason and her life, and they were beautiful.

As she held one of them, the last and her most beloved of all, she heard her faint, hoarse voice fall from her lips, singing a song that she had always associated with her books- her friends.

"_Speak to me, friend. Whisper... I'll listen. I know, I know you've been locked, out of sight, all these years, like me, my friend..."_ Her voice echoed in her ears, wavering slightly. She'd never been a good singer, but she didn't care anymore. It was now just another of the things wrong with her. _"Well I've come home, to find you waiting... Home, and we're together! And we'll do wonders, won't we? You there, my friend?"_

Of course it was there. It had always been there, as all of its kind had. It was a pity she couldn't say the same for the living beings in her life.

_I don't want to wake up  
On my own anymore._

But life was not a book. Even though most of what she liked to read was relevant to real life in some way or another, her life was most certainly not a book. More of a movie, she thought. One of those gritty, harsh-reality short films they showed in obscure film festivals, the kind no normal person attended anyway.

Setting down the book, letting her hand brush over the well-loved name as she did so, she raised her head to look up at the posters on her wall. A beautiful lady, pale and dark-haired with aristocratic features, looked back at her with a slight smile on her lips. It was almost as though she knew... as though she understood. This lady had taught her to be herself, live life on her own terms and just laugh at the world that tried to bring her down. But even though the lady had brought her this far... not even she could make a difference now. Neither she nor the strapping gentleman in the poster beside her, who was flashing a brilliant smile as he revelled in a forgotten victory. That smile, which had gotten her through so many difficult times... now, even that looked as though he understood as well, and was happy for her.

Opening her wardrobe, she reached into its depths and pulled out her best dress, shaking it out and scrutinising it. She had worn it only once before, on her birthday the previous year. It was soft and pale green with a floral print, stopping exactly at her knees. Maybe that was why she'd never worn it after the first time... she was too modest, not to mention she hadn't really gotten an occasion to wear it after that.

Until now.

Discarding the jeans and grey T-shirt she had on, she pulled the green dress over her head, freeing her hair and braiding it to fall over her left shoulder. Her bare feet made soft sounds against the marble floor as she left the room.

_There is another world  
There is a better world._

When she returned, there were three new messages and five missed calls on her phone. She hadn't recalled leaving it behind, but picked it up anyway to check. As she had suspected, they were all from the same person.

'Jus make sure u come tomorrow, u can be angry wid me later.'

'If u don't learn how to go to new places on ur own how will u become independent?'

'U gave me ur word u will be there, u have to be there... no ifs, no buts...'

A mirthless smile stretched one side of her mouth as she tossed the phone back onto the chair. Maybe it was true after all, what was said about people forgetting their friends after finding love. She hadn't expected it from this particular friend, but hey, that was life. Her life, in particular.

Opening up the DVD player, she inserted a mix CD she had randomly burned one day and set one song to repeat. The strains filled the air as she walked back into her room and lay down on her bed, staring at the posters that adorned the walls. How ironic, she thought. But at the same time, how fitting.

Everything came flooding into her mind once more, everything since the beginning. Only this time, each incident just flashed briefly before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared... until finally, there was nothing.

Her idols smiled down at her from their places of honour as she let her eyelids droop, and her body, after so long she couldn't even remember how long, finally relaxed. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally let herself fall asleep.

_Sing me to sleep  
Don't try to wake me in the morning  
'Cause I will be gone  
Don't feel bad for me  
I want you to know  
Deep in the cell of my heart  
I will feel so glad to go._

It caused no small amount of shock the next morning at her educational institution when they received the news. No one could bring themselves to believe that the girl with the bright smile and loud voice, the girl who would submit every assignment perfectly on time, the girl who talked to everyone and made the craziest Facebook posts, would never do any of it again. No one could fully face the fact that the girl once known as Niyati Pradhan had left, once and for all, with no one but God to sing her to sleep.

_Bye…_

**~THE END~**

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A/N: I hope that didn't offend anyone's sentiments. That's why there's only one character in the story, and that too not one of the more popular characters. Well, I actually didn't choose Niyati because she's not a main character. I chose her because I thought she was closest to the girl in the story.

Yup, this is a true story. All of it, except for the end. The end hasn't happened so far, and hopefully it won't happen in future either. And I don't think it takes a genius to figure out who the actual girl in the story is (indeed, I'm sure some of you will immediately have guessed who it is even before I told you it's based on a true story). I also chose Niyati because I think her personality matches best with the girl in the story and therefore, her life would be the most likely to be similar to that of the girl in the story. (This story takes place when she's in college, by the way.)

The song lyrics used are from 'Asleep' by the Smiths, hence the title. The song Niyati sings to her books is 'My Friends' from the musical _Sweeney Todd. _Several lines in the story itself were also inspired by _Sweeney Todd_ songs.

I would like to now apologise to everyone whom I have upset, offended, hurt (the most common word I've seen used) in any way during my time in FF. This story is just meant to show a different kind of reality… one none of you have seen or heard except maybe two people to whom I will be forever indebted. I'm sorry if you didn't like it, I just wanted to, as my official last story, post something people couldn't misunderstand or get offended by. (At least, I hope this story doesn't have any such effect.) 

Thank you all. And once again, sorry for everything. _/\_

-PR

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